


Finally in the Palms of Your Hands

by billiethepoet



Series: Fallacies and Assumptions, Logical and Otherwise [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 15:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13767543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billiethepoet/pseuds/billiethepoet
Summary: Missing scene fromFallacies and Assumptions, Logical and Otherwise.It's not the first night they've spent together, but it is the first night they've spent togetherlike that. Jim almost doesn't care that he's getting court martialed in the morning.





	Finally in the Palms of Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Here. Have a missing sex scene as long as the story from which it is missing. 
> 
> Much love to Curry for beta reading.

“Lights at twenty percent.” 

Spock’s living space has always been darker than Jim’s. Dressed in reds and golds, welcoming and warm and reminiscent of the sand and suns of Vulcan. Jim’s bedroom, his entire apartment, is a tidy collection of antiques washed in blues and silver. He keeps the lights low in deference to Spock’s preferences. 

Jim enters the bedroom with Spock a few steps behind. He’s patient enough to wait until he’s in the middle of the room before he turns to watch Spock. 

The low light casts stark shadows beneath the sharp line of Spock’s cheek bones and makes his eyes look even darker. Jim has watched Spock long enough to know exactly how and when he looks the most gorgeous. Would it be strange if they started this in the dark but Jim turned the lights up as bright as they will go when Spock is spread naked on his bed? Finally being able to look at Spock’s body, unabashedly and explicitly sexually, is something Jim has waited a long time for. His heart starts to pound. 

Spock stops within arm’s reach. Jim’s hands itch to reach out and squeeze the curve of Spock’s shoulders. It’s always been the safest place to touch Spock. No threat of skin-to-skin contact that would push Spock’s mental barriers or make Jim forget his own self control. 

That doesn’t matter anymore. There’s about to be lots of skin and lots of contact. Jim hopes, anyway. His arm twitches to move forward, but he’s suddenly struck by how little he knows about Spock here. 

Spock has joined their minds multiple times, but Jim never saw anything there that would give him an idea of Spock’s experience. Or his preferences. Or his fantasies. 

Jim is willing to admit he’s thought about all those questions before. Sometimes at length. But he’s never been so close to having them answered. 

There was Leila Kalomi on Omicron Ceti III and Zarabeth far in Sarpeidon’s past. And Spock would have had two, maybe three, more pon farrs since their five year mission. They had never really talked about what had happened in the time Spock was on Vulcan, but Jim didn’t think there was much time for sex while pursuing kolinahr. Fifteen years, two ships, and one death since V’ger and Jim didn’t know for sure what Spock had been up to. He certainly hadn’t been celibate and Spock couldn’t have been or else pon farr would have killed him. 

“Spock, I…” Jim finally reaches out and squeezes Spock’s biceps. “I don’t even know…”

“If you are trying to ascertain my level of sexual experience, you do not have all the pertinent facts from which to draw accurate conclusions.” 

Jim smiled. That shouldn’t sound like pillow talk but it sent a thrill down his spine anyway. “I know you’re a grown man, and there’s the issue of Vulcan biology at hand.” 

Even in the dim light, Jim could see a green flush tinge Spock’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. “I have participated in sexual intercourse involving oral, anal, and vaginal penetration as well as manual stimulation, mental provocation, and-”

“Spock, stop! Stop.” Jim let his hands slide down until he cups Spock’s elbows. Hearing a clinical recitation of Spock’s sexual history is...endearing. There’s no jealousy there, just a fondness for the young men they once were. And maybe a twinge of longing for those missed pon farrs. 

The number of times Jim has fantasized Spock’s hard body pressing him down in the hot Vulcan sand...well, it definitely wasn’t an appropriate way to think about his first officer. But Spock wasn’t under his command anymore. There was no sand here either, just cool, clean sheets. Jim has fantasized about those too. 

Spock wraps his fingers around Jim’s forearms and presses his elbows back into Jim’s palms. “Regardless of the quantity and diversity of my past experience,” Spock clears his throat and his eyebrow ticks upwards, “it has been some time.” 

“And never with me.” Jim can’t keep himself from teasing. He’s always been bad at self-restraint and with Spock it’s twice as hard. He wants to make Spock smile, to coax and catalogue every expression meant only for him. 

Spock’s eyebrow raises even higher and Jim wants to kiss the space created below its arch. “I assume you are suggesting sex will be significantly better with you.”

Jim applies pressure to the back of Spock’s elbows and takes a small step backward, leading him toward the bed. “Well, Mr. Spock, there’s only one way to find out.” 

Jim’s plan is to back them up all the way to the bed and tug Spock down with him, but he forgets about superior Vulcan strength. Spock stops after just the first step and pulls Jim forward using his grip on Jim’s forearms. That reminder of controlled strength sends a frisson of desire into Jim’s gut and brings back the memory of rough, hot sand against his cheek. 

They end up with their chests only a few centimeters apart. 

“Jim…” Spock bends his neck and brings his mouth close to Jim’s. 

Jim lets him sit there for a split second, enjoying the warm puff of Spock’s breath against his lips. He closes the space between them just as Spock’s tongue darts out to lick his own lips. 

Jim pushes that advantage and the kiss turns heated quickly. Spock is passionate, meeting Jim’s tongue with his own, sucking and pulling at Jim’s lips with his teeth. Jim’s arms end up under Spock’s, wrapped around his back with fingers stretching toward Spock’s shoulder blades. 

His fingers dig into the thick fabric of Spock’s uniform. He kisses down to Spock’s jaw, around its curve. Spock tilts his head back with a deep, rumbling groan. 

God, any sexual sound in that voice is going to unhinge Jim. He can feel it all the way to his toes. Jim kisses the column of Spock’s throat. He nips at it and presses his lips against Spock’s Adam’s apple. It jumps against his tongue as Spock swallows. 

The collar of the uniform undershirt comes up too high on Spock’s neck for Jim to go any further. Suddenly, he hates these uniforms. The cloth is too thick and it’s too complicated to remove. He wishes for the old gold and blue tunics with just the tight, black undershirts. Spock’s long, lean torso always looked amazing in both the blue and black. 

It had been a long time since he’d snuck glances at Spock’s chest, at his flat stomach, and at the whorls of hair there. But he is eager to do it again. This time openly and with permission to touch. 

“Come on,” Jim kisses the underside of Spock’s chin, “let’s go to bed.” 

He steps back and starts undoing the clasp of his own jacket. Spock follows suit standing just in front of him, mirroring his movements. Jim wants to reach out and undress Spock himself, but it feels too soon for that right now. And his fingers are shaking. Spock would surely notice that. 

It takes Spock two tries to get the zipper free from the bottom of his jacket. Maybe Jim isn’t the only one whose hands are unsteady. 

He tugs his own Starfleet issue undershirt over his head, simultaneously aware that the five year mission was a long time ago and that Spock won’t care at all about the softness around his middle. 

Spock’s shirt comes off and Jim almost orders the computer to turn the lights up another ten percent. Instead, he reaches out a hand and stops just short of touching. “May I?” 

Spock steps forward so that Jim’s palm flattens against his sternum. Jim’s fingers spread through crisp chest hair. The lights are too low to tell if it has stayed as dark as the hair on Spock’s head or if it’s laced with gray or silver. Jim slides his palm up, spreads his fingers a bit wider, as if he could tell by touch alone. 

He’ll see it someday soon, he knows. 

Spock’s hands tentatively come to rest on Jim’s hips, thumbs extended to stroke just above the waistband of his pants. The pads of his thumbs burn points of heat into Jim’s skin. Spock breathes in sharply through his nose. 

“Spock?” 

“I do not want to use any mental shielding but I am afraid I may have to, to get through this.” 

Jim brings his other hand up, wraps it around the smooth skin over Spock’s ribs where his heart beats. He knows what Spock means. “It’s all right. If you have to block some things or keep me out, that’s all right.”

“I do not want to.” 

“I know.” Jim trails his hand down a bit more, following the thickening line of hair to Spock’s stomach. It’s not as flat as it used to be. The rush of affection Jim feels does nothing to dampen his lust. He’s bad at emotional controls at the best of times. He’s certainly no help to Spock now. 

He keeps his fingers moving downward, until he reaches the button at the top of Spock’s pants. He stops and looks up at Spock. He slides two of his fingers into the waistband, just a centimeter or two. Spock inhales deeply again, but doesn’t look away. Jim could get lost in how expressive Spock’s eyes are, shining through the darkness.

“May I?” Jim murmurs as he pulls outward, just a bit, on Spock’s waistband. 

“Yes.”

There’s no hesitation in Spock’s voice, but it does sound even lower and rougher than usual. Jim can’t wait to hear Spock moan. He pops the button on Spock’s pants and slowly pulls the zipper all the way down. Beneath Spock’s pants, there is more black fabric sitting tightly against his skin. 

Instead of reaching inside Spock’s open pants, Jim raises his hands back to Spock’s ribs. His palms wrap so easily around Spock’s middle. Spock’s skin is burning hot and Jim wants to feel that heat pressed against him from nose to toes. He leans up and catches Spock’s lips again. 

He draws out the kiss, slow and sensual, trying to regain his balance with Spock. Sex has always been like diplomacy to Jim. Something to be practiced, refined, and shared, where natural talents should be displayed to their best advantage. He’s had no shortage of chances to sharpen his skills over the years and he wants to use all that experience to show Spock how good this can be. How good they can be together. 

And to get the low, rumbling moan out of him that Jim has been dreaming of. 

He pulls away and Spock’s lips follow. Jim steps back a step as Spock presses forward to kiss him again. If Jim’s kiss was meant to be a promise of seduction and care, Spock’s kiss is one of commitment. It’s strong and solid, but not demanding. It’s Spock meeting Jim with everything he has and saying _I want this. I want this._

Jim realizes he hadn’t totally believed Spock was finally coming to him, to both his bed and his heart, until that kiss. Jim feels Spock’s devotion and desire to work to keep them together, even when his instinct might be to run away. Maybe some of Spock’s telepathy is rubbing off on him. 

When Spock pulls away, Jim takes him by the wrist and walks them carefully over to his embarrassingly large bed. He pretends not to see Spock’s eyebrow quirk up at that. They could easily fit themselves twice over in the bed. After years of cramped ship’s quarters, Jim had wanted something more comfortable. The idea of sharing it made the size even more necessary. 

He drops Spock’s hand and sits on the side of the bed to pull his boots off. He works his own fly open before looking up at Spock again. Spock, who has stripped down to tight, black trunks that hug his hips and outline the muscles in his thighs, stares back at him. 

Jim looks his fill, from Spock’s broad shoulders, down the shadowy trail of his chest hair, to the bulge in those trunks less than half a meter from his face. He wants to lean into it, to rub his cheek against Spock’s groin until that thickness becomes hardness and Spock pushes back against him. 

Instead, Jim finishes shucking his own clothes. He strips down to his gray Starfleet issue briefs to match Spock. The wriggle out of his pants isn’t graceful, but he’s still on eye level with Spock’s crotch and he’s nearly naked. That is a definite tactical improvement. 

He clasps Spock’s hips, amazed both at the feel of solid bone under lean muscle and that he can do this without hesitation now. He tugs a bit. “Come here.” 

Jim lowers himself back onto the bed, using the pressure of his fingers on Spock’s hips to guide him down too. He watches the muscles in Spock’s thighs jump and shift as Spock figures out how to position himself on the bed. 

He can see Spock calculating where to go and how to move his knees. Jim would love to just pull Spock down on top of him, feel that dense Vulcan body weight pressing him into the mattress, but Spock shifts and moves to lie beside him. Jim drops his hands from Spock’s hips and lets him go. 

Spock settles beside him, but close. Close enough to feel the hair on Spock’s legs tickle his skin and Spock’s breath brush his cheek. Jim turns his head but keeps his shoulders flat on against the bed. Spock is on his side, looking at Jim. 

“I’m not doing this halfway off the bed.”

“It does seem like a waste of space.”

Jim tugs at Spock’s side. It’s like now that all that skin is visible, he can’t help himself. He shifts himself, again not his most graceful moment, to the head of the bed. Spock follows, more graceful and feline than Jim wants to admit. But the image of Spock in tight black underwear and nothing else crawling up his stark white sheets is going to stay with him for more than just a while. 

He doesn’t let Spock settle in next to him this time. He wraps his hands around Spock’s shoulders and pulls him down for a kiss. 

Spock’s weight doesn’t come fully down on Jim the way Jim wants, but he can feel the crisp curls of Spock’s chest hair against his nipples. Lust fills Jim’s chest and runs hot deep into his belly. 

His hands roam Spock’s back, dipping down to the band of his trunks and sweeping back up. The kiss is heated and Spock is definitely in charge. Jim follows his lead and bucks his body up to press against Spock. He hopes the brush of his erection against Spock’s thigh will let Spock know how much he enjoys this flip in the chain of command.

Jim goes from brushing to dragging to grinding himself against Spock in the course of the kiss. He’s panting and sweat is starting to form on his brow when Spock pulls back. Jim keeps his hands pressed tight against Spock’s back. Spock could obviously break away, but it’s communication more than restraint. 

“Jim…” Spock’s face is even more shadowed now but Jim doesn’t need to see him clearly. He can hear the hesitation, the self-consciousness, and the want there. 

He drags his hands, letting his short nails scratch at bit, down Spock’s back again. “What do you like?” Jim has always been comfortable prioritizing his lovers’ wants. Listening to his partners, figuring out what brings them the most pleasure, and out performing their expectations gives an edge to Jim’s own pleasure. He wants to see Spock reduced to orgasmic bliss before he lets himself come. 

Spock pushes up enough to look down at Jim with an expression of fond exasperation. It’s one of Jim’s favorite expressions. “I like many things, Jim. It would benefit you to be more specific.” 

Jim rocks up again, needing to push his hips slightly higher to rub against Spock’s erection. “Put all that Vulcan brain power behind figuring out what I could possibly mean in this situation.” 

Spock rolls his hips and Jim has to bite back a moan. He tightens his hands on Spock’s hips and tries to trap Spock tight against him. Instead, Spock pushes up on his hands and moves his body entirely away from Jim. The dim light catches the edge of Spock’s smirk and pure joy bubbles up in Jim’s chest. _He can finally have this._

If Spock is brave enough to tease Jim while they are both nearly naked, Jim is mischevious enough to take it a step further. He brings his hands up to caress Spock’s stomach. He glides his palms along the silky hair there and feels Spock’s muscles quiver. He stops with his hands around Spock’s ribs. 

Jim sees the opportunity to encourage Spock and see some of his fantasies play out in reality at the same time. “What do you do to make yourself feel good?” 

Something in Spock’s demeanor shifts. It’s just a slight tension, a type of stillness he knows means Spock is uncomfortable. Jim keeps his hands still and gives Spock time to speak. 

“Vulcans do not engage in self-pleasure.” 

“I thought Vulcans didn’t lie either?” He gives Spock his most seductive grin but is met with only a blank stare. “Spock, you’re telling me that you’ve never...ah...taken the problem in hand, so to speak?”

Spock rolls off Jim, but doesn’t go far. Jim turns on his side to face Spock, only a handful of centimeters between their bodies. He reaches out to wrap a hand around Spock’s hip, feeling the echo of Spock’s heartbeat there. 

“Jim, Vulcans ‘taking the problem in hand’ is exactly the issue.” Spock shifts and lowers his eyes. Jim had always found embarrassment endearing and attractive on Spock’s face, but in this situation he would rather have Spock confident. Naked and confident. 

He strokes a hand up Spock’s ribs and back down again. Waiting. 

“You are aware that Vulcan hands are important in our intimate relationships,” Spock continues.

Jim leans on his elbow, head cradled in the palm of his hand. “You’re touch telepaths.” 

“Yes, and you have always been conscientious about how and where you touch me. Specifically, you avoid my hands.” 

Jim skims his hand across Spock’s side and up to the curve of his shoulder. “I have. I knew it was inappropriate. Is it still?” He lets his fingers trace along Spock’s bicep. The muscle twitches under his touch. 

“No, it is not. In fact, I would greatly appreciate if you touched my hands. When we’re like this.” Spock reaches out and drags his fingers down Jim’s sternum. 

Jim feels something like tiny electric sparks where Spock touches. Not against his skin, but somehow under it. And in his head all at once. The sensation is just on the right side of overwhelming. It feels a bit like the melds he and Spock have shared over the years but both more intense and less invasive, somehow.

Spock pulls his fingers away and the tingling dies away until all Jim can feel is its echo. He meets Spock’s uncomfortable, embarrassed face with a look of dawning understanding. 

Spock ducks his chin in a nod. “The sensory feedback created between two extremely sensitive erogenous zones…” 

“Computer, lights up another twenty percent.” Jim has to see him now. Has to know if Spock is blushing or if he has pasted a matter-of-fact look on his face to cover his unease or if somewhere in the last twenty years he’s become comfortable talking about his own body, his own pleasure, so frankly. 

Jim is momentarily distracted by the silver hairs mixed with the black strands on Spock’s chest. Age has been very, very good to Spock. His skin isn’t as taut as it once was but Jim can see the play and shift of his clearly defined muscles. His body shows scars Jim doesn’t remember and Jim’s cock twitches when he thinks about learning them. When his gaze makes it way back to Spock’s face, Spock is smirking at him. There’s a flush of green across his cheekbones but that could be embarrassment or attraction. Jim can work with either one. “So, you’re saying that it’s too much?”

Spock rests his fingers between Jim’s navel and the waistband of his briefs. The little bursts of energy that seem to jump from Spock’s fingers to Jim’s mind and body start up again. Jim hitches his hips in an attempt to get closer to Spock’s hand. Spock’s fingers move in the tiniest of circles against his skin. 

Jim knows this tactic too. He’s seen Spock avoid direct questions before. He rolls his hips toward Spock’s hand again. “You’re trying to distract me.” 

Spock gives him a pained look. “Jim…” 

With that expression, decades fall away from Spock’s face. It’s as if Jim is again standing in Spock’s quarters while Spock tries to bite out words about the Vulcan birds and bees. He forgets that while Spock has become so much more comfortable with himself, with his humanness, that some things are difficult for any species.

He takes Spock’s face between his palms and kisses him. He keeps it slow and sweet even as Spock pulls their bodies tight together. Their erections rub together through the fabric of their underwear and Jim groans into Spock’s mouth. 

He pulls back and Spock chases his lips for just a moment. Jim leans back even farther, teasing just a bit again, and Spock practically growls. He’s seen glimpses of Spock’s possessive, commanding attitude before. That’s exactly what he wants. For Spock to be assertive and aggressive and take what he wants. 

Jim pushes himself up until his back is pressed against the headboard. Spock follows him up, covering Jim’s body with his own, until Jim presses a hand flat to his chest. Spock stops and watches Jim expectantly. His breath pants out between parted lips, a green tinge shades his cheeks, and his eyes are glassy. He is poised over Jim’s legs, weight resting on hands planted near Jim’s hips. 

If Jim doesn’t get his briefs off now, he might combust. 

He starts to shimmy out of that last piece of clothing. Spock doesn’t move to make Jim’s job easier and he doesn’t offer to help. He just watches as Jim pushes his underwear down his legs and carefully kicks them off. It feels like a physical caress when Spock’s eyes land on Jim’s erect cock. It bobs and fluid leaks from the tip as Spock stares at it. 

“Jim…” Spock pleads. 

Jim grins. He can’t help it. “I can think of a good use for those sensitive fingers. Can’t you, Mr. Spock?” 

Spock’s eyes close for just a moment while he breathes deeply, in and out. He sinks back on his knees between Jim’s spread legs. His hands press flat against the tops of Jim’s thighs. Spock leaves them sit there long enough for the warmth to seep from his palms into Jim’s skin. It doesn’t take long. Spock runs hotter than a human under regular circumstances and now his skin is positively burning. When his fingers to start to move, the tiny bursts of prickling electricity make the downy hair on Jim’s thighs stand up on end. 

“That sensation is the start of a bond. It is similar to a meld, but more permanent.” Spock snakes the fingers of his right hand down to Jim’s knee in a wavy, wriggling sort of pattern. Jim gasps. “I cannot make it any less than it is. It may become stronger as I… as I lose focus.” Spock’s fingers dip behind his knee to touch the soft skin there and Jim’s hips rock up. 

“No complaints here.” He’s watching the progress of Spock’s hands back up the length of his legs, until they stop just short of where Jim wants them. He meets Spock’s eyes, expecting something light hearted and fun. Instead, Spock looks stricken. 

“I will offer a bond this time Jim.” 

Jim smiles, a mix of sadness and melancholy and joy. “I know. We’ll get there this time.” 

Spock nods and looks down at his own hands. Jim can only see the glossy top of his head and the shadow of his bangs now. His thumbs circle the inside of Jim’s thighs, sending sparks straight to Jim’s balls.

Spock’s fingers stretch up and up until the very tips brush the base of Jim’s cock. The callouses just below Spock’s lowest knuckles catch at the hair around Jim’s shaft. Spock’s thumbs brush over the curve of Jim’s sack. He rubs them up and down a few times and Jim tries desperately not to buck his hips into thin air. 

His thumbs keep climbing until he runs them, one after the other, the entire length of Jim’s cock. There’s almost no pressure and he doesn’t touch the head of Jim’s cock, just strokes the length and then rests his hands back at the base of Jim’s cock. 

“Spock...please…” 

Jim doesn’t want to rush him, but it has been a long time and a long time coming and he cannot take a long time to come. Jim will explode if Spock doesn’t hurry up. 

Spock looks up at him. He drags his tongue along his bottom lip, leaving it shiny in the low light. He looks predatory, poised between Jim’s legs and ready to strike. 

“Wrap your hand around me and stroke.” Jim not sure if he’s begging or giving instructions but either way Spock listens. 

He plants one hand low on Jim’s stomach and a twinge of self-consciousness at how round it is goes through Jim’s mind. But Spock cradles Jim’s cock in the palm of his hand, again rubbing his thumb along the shaft, and those thoughts evaporate.

Spock closes his hand around Jim. The tips of his index and middle finger come into contact with the hot, smooth skin of Jim’s cock for the first time and Spock gasps. He strokes Jim’s length and slowly slides those fingertips across the head of Jim’s cock. Jim can see a string of precome clinging to Spock’s fingers as they pull away from his slit. 

It’s such a small touch but those electric shocks have turned into tendrils of buzzing sensation that wrap through Jim’s body, connecting his cock to his balls to his ass. He can feel it in every erogenous zone he has. 

He’s on the verge of demanding Spock fuck him. To hell with taking things slowly. Just pulling Spock over him and begging to be filled and pounded into the mattress. 

What stops him is Spock taking his hand away. Jim nearly shouts in frustration. But Spock raises those two fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth.

It is the filthiest thing Jim has ever seen. Spock’s eyes fall closed and he moans. Jim catches just a peek of Spock’s tongue as it weaves between his fingers. 

“Christ, Spock.” 

Spock pulls his fingers from his mouth and wraps his hand around Jim’s cock again. His grip is firmer and he leaves a trail of dampness along Jim’s shaft as he strokes from root to tip. He twists his wrist so that his palm rubs across the head of Jim’s cock before he slides his hand back down. 

He doesn’t hesitate this time. He starts another stroke, a bit faster this time, as soon as the heel of his hand brushes Jim’s pubic hair. 

“That’s it, Spock. Like that.” Jim thrusts his hips up as Spock drags his hand down. They quickly establish a rhythm and Jim knows he won’t last long. He didn’t expect Spock to be the most vocal lover but Spock pants and groans with each flex of his fingers against Jim’s hardness. It pushes Jim’s pleasure higher and higher to hear Spock enjoying himself. 

Jim’s balls are tight against his body and the electric hum of _them_ is becoming unbearable. Jim reaches down and rests his hand on top of the one Spock has left pressed to his stomach. 

Spock’s fingers spasm on Jim’s cock and he moans. His grip tightens and Jim fucks into his fist on every stroke. 

Jim comes with a great groan, hips off the bed and Spock’s hand stroking him through it. Thick trails of come land on his chest and stomach. 

It takes a moment for Jim to come back to himself. Spock is still sitting between his spread thighs, one hand loosely wrapped around his softening cock and the other tracing the sparse line of hair below his navel. 

Jim reaches for him and Spock surges forward to meet him. Jim manages to get his hands around Spock’s shoulders to help pull him up. 

“Get up here. Up here.” It’s an unnecessary command. Spock is already moving over him, planting a knee on either side of his hips. Spock straddling him is a dream come true. A fantasy Jim has entertained for years. 

Spock’s cock bobs between them, flushed green and long and lean. 

Jim wraps one arm around Spock’s waist to hold him in place. His hand lands on Spock’s ass and Jim squeezes. He’s thought about that a lot too over the years. He takes Spock’s cock in his other hand. The pad of his thumb catches on both ridges as he swipes it up and over the head. Spock rocks into his fist. 

Jim plants his forehead on Spock’s sternum and focuses on spreading the wetness seeping from Spock’s slit with each stroke. From this angle, Jim can watch as his hand slides over Spock’s skin. He can also see all the wrinkles and softness of age on their bodies. It bothers him a bit. He’s always wanted to be young and strong again, but he didn’t have Spock naked in his bed back then so there are trade offs. Nothing about Spock’s body bothers him. He wants to touch it with his mouth and his hands until Spock begs him to stop. 

Jim can also see where Spock’s hands twitch uselessly at his sides, as if he’s unsure where to put them. Jim grabs one of Spock’s wrists and brings it to his mouth. 

He starts by kissing the heel of Spock’s hand and licking down to trace the green-blue vein in Spock’s wrist. He keeps his other hand firm on Spock’s cock but his focus is on the hand at his lips. He slides his lips across Spock’s palm, and Spock’s fingers uncurl to let him. 

When Jim licks at the callouses at the base of Spock’s fingers, Spock’s hips jump and he thrusts hard into Jim’s hand. 

“Jim…” 

It’s barely a whisper but it’s as reverent and loving as Spock has ever said his name. Jim wishes they hadn’t let so much time pass. He wishes he had the refractory period of his 30 year old self again. 

Jim works his the tip of his tongue between Spock’s index and ring finger. It’s sticky and salty there and Jim realizes he’s tasting himself on Spock’s skin. He licks between those fingers all the way to their tips. He closes his mouth over the fingertips Spock uses to kiss, to make telepathic links, and sucks. Spock goes rigid in his lap and electricity jumps over his tongue.

Jim pulls back, just enough to leave Spock’s fingers resting on his bottom lip. He holds them them with pressure on Spock’s wrist. When he looks ups, Spock’s eyes are squeezed shut and his jaw is clenched. 

His cock throbs in Jim’s hand. 

“It’s all right, Spock.” Jim breathes gently on Spock’s damp fingers and gooseflesh breaks out on Spock’s arm. “You can let go. Just relax and let go.” 

Spock’s eyes stay closed but the lines around his mouth soften. He rocks his hips again and Jim moves his fist in counterpoint, helping Spock fuck himself into his hand. Jim watches as Spock’s cock flexes and flushes a darker green across the head. 

He focuses on Spock’s cock, on watching Spock’s body move. Jim has waited so long to see Spock like this, he doesn’t intend to miss a thing. He’s so focused that Spock takes him by surprise. 

He pushes his fingers back into Jim’s mouth. He pushes them deep, all the way to the second knuckle, and moans loudly. Jim barely has time to swirl his tongue over Spock’s fingers before he’s pulling them out again. Spock slides his fingers almost all the way out of Jim’s mouth and then pushes them back in again. This time Jim sucks, hard, as Spock fucks his fist and his mouth all at once. 

It’s blissful to bring Spock so much pleasure. Pleasure he is unselfconscious about taking. He bucks and writhes and thrusts into Jim. He goes rigid again and Jim watches as Spock comes, splattering Jim’s belly and chest. 

He pulls Spock’s fingers from his mouth and laces their hands together on the bed. He rests his forehead against Spock’s chest again. He can barely hear Spock’s racing heartbeat but his own echoes in his ears. Spock rests his cheek against the crown of Jim’s head. 

They can’t stay like this long. Jim is a mess and his hips have gone stiff from sitting like this for so long. Spock is heavy in his lap and Jim wishes he could tolerate keeping Spock there all night. But soon he’ll start to lose feeling in his legs. 

Still, Spock shifts first. He lifts his weight from Jim’s lap but doesn’t move away. Instead, he takes Jim’s face between his hands and kisses him. 

They kiss slowly and deeply. Jim lets his hands wander from Spock’s thighs, to his ass, and all the way up his spine to his hair. There’s so much of Spock that he has been waiting to explore. 

Spock pulls back but his eyes are still a bit glazed and his lips still shiny and swollen from Jim’s mouth.  
“We should rest.”

Jim looks down at his torso. “I need to shower first.” 

“Yes, that would be advisable.” He catches Spock staring at the mess they’ve made of Jim’s body. His gaze is dark and possessive, and a bit perplexed.

Jim stretches his shoulders back and pushes his chest forward. “You like that?”

Spock arches an eyebrow but doesn’t look away from Jim’s body. “It is...more visually appealing than I had anticipated.” He strokes a thumb along Jim’s ribs, dragging through a patch of drying come. 

This will be the death of Jim. He is going to have a heart attack in bed with a naked Vulcan. 

He squeezes Spock’s hips. “Let me up. I’ll go shower and then we can go to bed.” 

Spock rises, much more gracefully than Jim thinks he would have after sitting on his knees for so long. “I will join you.”

“Only if you don’t complain about how cold the water is.” 

Spock sighs in a ridiculously dramatic fashion. “I believe I can survive it.” 

Jim kisses him quickly “We’ll make it quick. Always helps to get plenty of sleep before you get court martialed.”

“Jim-”

“I know. It will be fine.” Jim grins and takes his elbow to lead him to the bathroom. “But we should get to sleep so we can do that again before we have to face the music tomorrow.” 

Spock doesn’t even argue.


End file.
